


It's Always Darkest Just Before Dawn

by jaygirl987



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: I'll add them as I go - Freeform, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-01-01 05:11:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 20,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12149316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaygirl987/pseuds/jaygirl987
Summary: A place to collect all of my Tumblr prompts.





	1. Elusive

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter will be individually rated, so please use caution.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Yona comforts Shin-ah after a nightmare
> 
> T

 

  

  He can see them coming.

  Fear overwhelms and paralyzes him from head to toe, dousing him in waves of ice as he frets and begins to panic. "A-Ao..." he stammers out, so very small and unsure as his gaze falls upon the sword that he's still not strong enough to lift, let alone wield. "They're coming..."

  What can he possibly do? How did Ao handle the thieves and bandits that plagued their village when he'd first become the Seiryuu? How was he able to fend off such fiendish rogues and keep their people safe from harm at a young age? His now deceased predecessor had never prepared him for this particular scenario and it was his duty to guard the ones who feared him so against the monsters that lurked beyond the outskirts of their home. He was born to protect these people. They may tremble and cower at the mere sight of him, but they are the only family that he knows. What can he do to save them?

  _Monster_.

  There is only one thing that he, a mere child, _can_ do. There is no other way for him to help than to unleash the massive force that he harnesses beneath his mask. If it will prevent the deaths of this tribe, he will free the power that he reigns in. As he runs over the horizon and into battle, little legs staggering and knees shaking, his eyes sting with unshed tears at having gone back on his mentor's words, an echo of a promise to never use such a ghastly power ringing in his ears. He tries his best to reason with his staggering guilt; what other option is left? With Ao gone, he is the sole protector of his people and he will take any measure to ensure their safety.

  His small hands tremble violently as he reaches the large group of grown men, tiny fingers pulling his mask away while silent eyes slowly rise to meet their gazes. He registers their terror as the numbness begins in his toes and slowly climbs up his legs, tingling and pawing in its ascent. They drop to the ground one by one, their faces frozen in fear and paralyzed with pain.

  _What has he done?_

  His small body is now fully grown as he himself drops to the earth as heavy as a stone, his own chest tight and body numb as his soul feels as if it is being ripped apart in every direction. The bandits have morphed into the familiar faces that travel beside him everyday, their eyes dull and lifeless as they litter the blood-soaked dirt beneath his cheek, his eyes burning and stinging. He wants to rip them out. He wants to join his fellow dragons in eternal slumber if living means carrying on without them.

  Yona's violet eyes blink dazedly back at him from where she has fallen, a shining trail of crimson leaking from the corner of her mouth. His chest aches. She needs him and he cannot answer her call. His body will not listen to his commands to help her, the paralysis worse than it has ever been before. Her dirt-streaked hand is stretching out for his frozen one, his mouth fighting to wrap around the words threatening to claw their way out of his throat as her eyes slowly close in reprieve. Tears begin to fall from his eyes but he cannot feel them.

  _He is a demon and this is his hell._

 

 

  He awakens with a rough start and a lingering tightening in his throat, his heart hammering in his chest and lungs aching to dislodge the scream that is desperate for release as he sits up, panting for breath.

  It's hot and humid, rain pattering gently against the fabric of the tent, an accompaniment to the rhythmic breathing surrounding him on all sides. Zeno snores lightly to his left and he finally registers just where he is. His family is all around him, having combined sleeping quarters while camping out in unfamiliar territory. His eyes pierce through the darkness effortlessly, taking in their slumbering forms, faces lax in their restful slumbers, unaware of the chaotic terror wrecking havoc in his mind.

  It was only a dream. They're all here and unharmed, willing to sleep so close to him despite the dangers of his abilities. They're relaxed and unguarded around the monster in their midst, so trusting. 

  Lightning illuminates the inside of the tent mere seconds before thunder booms, his shaking hand reaching for his mask in order to fix it to his face. His fingers fumble with the string and he takes a deep breath to steady himself. It's hot in the tent and a little crowded, the conditions pulling forth a nostalgic claustrophobia that he's been fortunate enough to not have had to endure in quite some time. The air is stifling as he continues to suppress his terror, the humidity sticky and unpleasant as it mixes with the residual adrenaline of his nightmare. He needs air and space, neither of which he will find here amongst his comrades. His heart refuses to cease its incessant thrumming while his panting breath continues to roar in his ears. He feels as though he is being so disruptive. They deserve their rest. They do not need to be burdened with his small problems. He may be a monster that is used to the darkness of his own past, but he refuses to allow them to lurk in its evil aura.

  He makes to remove himself from them, to perhaps allow the rain to cleanse him of the poison of his dreams, but gentle hands that he'd now know anywhere wrap around his wrist and tug, pull him back down to his bedding so that he may rest beside her, calm fingers weaving through clammy ones in order to soothe and pacify his chaotic soul. Shin-ah blinks in surprise, unaware that he has awoken anyone as the mask falls to the ground. He stiffens and swallows, an apology at the ready upon the tip of his tongue.

  Yona says nothing as she wiggles slightly closer to his larger frame, the space too dark for her to see his unmasked face, but his eyes see her perfectly; porcelain skin is relaxed from sleep as she comforts him without question, the callouses upon her palm grounding him to her as she strokes his hand with a reassuring touch. Her eyes remain closed in her weary state, but he knows for a fact that he would see nothing but warmth and tender concern in them were she to crack them open even the tiniest bit. Her acceptance of him and his horrors is a different kind of overwhelming, and he is so very unworthy and weak.

  He shouldn't allow himself to nestle his head so close to her shoulder, for he is but a monster, and such terrifying creatures are not deserving of such caring fingers weaving through the sweat-soaked strands at the base of his neck. She allows him to crawl closer to her still, the dragon warrior so very unfamiliar with this new territory. He's spent nearly his whole life in solitude. Having someone else care for him in such a moment of weakness is both humbling and strange.

  He has been so spoiled by her touch after going so long without and he greedily soaks it in as his racing heart begins to tame itself slowly, his ears following the rhythmic sound of her breathing as he molds himself against her. He unclenches and closes his eyes as his nose presses against the hollow of her throat, skin to skin contact not nearly as uncomfortable as he had feared it would be mere moments ago. Her heartbeat resonates against him, his consciousness unable to resist counting the beat, the steady pulse taming the chaos in his mind.

  These quiet respites in between battles are a purgatory for him, one that he cannot escape. Peace is the very real enemy of the nightmares that are his haunted memory. Somehow, she understands this, which is probably why she chose to sleep beside him tonight. Everyone has their own demons that hover on the outskirts of their subconscious, waiting for a moment of weakness so that they may worm their way under fragile skin and burrow into the darkness that lurks in every heart, preying upon ones fears and feasting upon the trauma of unforgettable memories that one would like nothing more than to have erased from one's past. Not for the first time since he’s met her, he wonders if she sometimes feels as lost as he.

  Her fingers are interlocked with his and she squeezes his hand, the brightness of her soul clearing a path through the murky remainders of his frightening dream and allowing the once tense muscles in his back to release. She strokes his hair and begins to fall back into her drowsy slumber, her small body so strong as he presses himself to her that much more. It is she who will protect him this time and he must admit, it feels reassuring to know that he is no longer alone.

  Sleep will be elusive on this night, but her presence shall remain and he will bask in the light that she provides in his darkness.  
 


	2. Where the Sky Meets the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt: The first time Jaeha experienced a storm at sea.  
> T

 

  He'd wanted freedom and it had come at a price; a hefty amount that he hadn't been prepared to pay.

  Green strands are soaked as thunder booms and shakes the very air around him, his bones rattling at the sheer amount of power in the lingering rumbling. He shoves the drenched tapers out of his eyes and grips the worn wood that much more tightly as the ship careens forward, salt water spraying and erupting around the crew as they scurry to and fro, tightening loose ropes and struggling to keep the vessel together as the storm rages all around them. Jae-ha feels as vulnerable as the ship itself as it is tossed upon the waves, his eyes scanning the darkness as he realizes that there is no where else to flee.

  The once bright blue sky that he had longed to soar freely into is black, lightening streaking across the darkened clouds and illuminating the rolling waves of the choppy sea. The ship pitches downward again, his hands fighting to hold himself steady as water sweeps across the deck, knocking over several men and freeing a few barrels in the process.

  A thick rope snaps and the resounding shouts of distress are nearly carried away by the roaring of the wind, his eyes scanning the panic beginning to take root as the men lose control of the sails. The captain's voice is firm and fearless as she calls out her orders, demands someone to take control of the situation before they all perish to the bottom of the sea.

  No. He refuses to lose this life that he's fought so hard to obtain. No one will ever decide his fate for him again.

  He leaps up to the abandoned crow's nest, perched upon the creaking and groaning wood as his eyes squint against the darkness looming behind the pelting rain, the wind even more ferocious the higher he goes. He spies the rope and soars, grasping the twining fibers and falling to the deck with a heavy thud. His feet no sooner land upon the solid surface before he is jerked upward, eyes clenching shut and teeth gritting together as he nearly cries out from the sheer force threatening to pull his arm from his socket. He can't hold on anymore, but then there are hands and bodies behind him in an instant, lending their strength and aiding him to secure the line before the unforgiving sea steals what small security they have managed to purchase in these dark waters.

  He catches the captain's eye in the flash of a moment and he thinks that if he survives this, he may have earned his keep aboard this vessel.


	3. Seek and Ye Shall Find

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Kija’s reaction after seeing Yona’s injury  
> T

 

  He is shaking with grief and rage.

  His master, the one that he lives to serve, the being for whom his very soul calls out to and seeks to aid is unconscious and injured, and he wasn’t here to stop the fiend.

  His blood is boiling and his hand is itching to strike down the ones who have caused her such pain. The entire reason for them leaving her here tonight was to keep her out of harm’s way. They only sought to protect her well-being. How could this have happened? He loathes and thoroughly despises whatever demons took it upon themselves to slice and tear apart her once flawless and pristine flesh. He thirsts for revenge and hungers for their heads. He doesn’t know how to calm his twitching muscles and racing thoughts.

  There is one thing that he is certain of: he is not alone in his desperate unease.

  Shin-ah’s normal silence is tense and vibrating in the quiet of the room that they are all occupying, his hand upon the hilt of the sword in his lap while he sits and stares into an abyss that the white dragon is, for once, all too happy to not be able to witness himself. His jaw is set into a firm lock and his lips are pursed in a tight line. He does not envy the guilt that hovers around him. The blue dragon was here when it happened, yet still unable to prevent it, and none of them blame him for it. Shin-ah will be harder on himself than the rest of them could ever think to be.

  Jae-ha’s normally happy and teasing demeanor is both sober and somber, a look on him that is nothing but sickeningly off-putting. It’s not hard to see that the humor that he usually uses as a shield isn’t strong enough for this sort of thing, the expression upon his face upon seeing Yona’s prone form wrapped up in bandages one that will be etched into Kija’s memories for the remainder of his days.

  No one has seen Yoon since their arrival. He’s been in with the surgeon who has been tending to Lili’s bodyguard who was stabbed so viciously. The young boy is not only like a sponge that is eager to soak up as much knowledge as he is able, but he is unable to sit still when he knows that he may be of use to someone somewhere.

  Kija envies him.

  Zeno is still and rests with his eyes closed. His calm demeanor is dissipating the cloud that hangs above them, but it is slow at best and only grates Kija’s nerves. What can they do? Hak is keeping watch over the Princess, but what else can be done to locate the disgusting excuse of a human being that committed such a sin? He doesn’t deserve to escape and they are rapidly running out of time before the trail goes cold.

  There is only one thing _to_ do and there is no one else better suited for the task at hand than those that have been bestowed with gifts such as theirs.

  “Everyone, gather your things,” he speaks lowly. Three sets of eyes turn in his direction, latching onto his every word and all too ready to move away from their own thoughts and regrets at the evening’s events. Kija stands before the door, his mind made up while his dragon’s hand grips the frame and damages the material, his eyes straight ahead as he breathes, “We’re going on a hunt.”


	4. Prickle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: fluff
> 
> Something sweet, like platonic cuddles, or one character giving a back-rub to another one, or anything like this. Form and cast of your choice. Bonus points for the most unexpected plot, setting or characters.  
> T

  Knowledge is power, but he feels so very weak at the moment. Pulling all-nighters has begun to get the best of him at last, it seems.

  Yoon rubs at his tired eyes, giving his aching fingers a break as dawn begins to spill over the horizon, his back protesting with the gentle stretch that he permits it. He blinks at the bright morning light, the sky alight in varying shades of pastel pinks as he returns to the needle and thread, the final stitch at long last in place as he yawns. He hasn’t done this much sewing in awhile. Zeno’s enthusiastic zest for life will be the death of the young genius before the summer is over.

  Ah, well. The weird morons may give him a hard time, but it is nice to be of use while being able to put his genius to work at long last. Besides, the idea of Yona being all alone to fend for herself against these idiots is absolutely laughable. They would all have starved by now if it weren’t for him, a fact that they liked to remind him of every time that he cooks.

  It’s nice to be appreciated.

  Deciding that he has finally earned himself a bit of rest, he prepares to fold the clothing back up, but his hand won’t seem to cooperate. Huh. It must be stiff. He’ll stretch it out once he severs the thread with his knife.

  Pulling his tool from his bag, he attempts to slice away the string, but his fingers refuse to bend, the sore digits numb and screaming at him as he tries to rub at them with his left hand. He finds that this one won’t move either and drops both the fabric and his small blade with a cry of surprise. He can’t seem to get them to move to his will at all, his eyes wide and uncomprehending as a tingling numbness begins to cause panic to seed itself in his exhausted mind. He shakes the appendages but it does not alleviate the ache nor the symptoms. What should he do? He’s stuck!

  So caught up is he in his troubles, he doesn’t hear the approaching footsteps or light snapping of small twigs behind him until it is too late.

  The thunder beast’s brow is furrowed as he crouches beside him wordlessly, Yoon startling and beginning to scold him for sneaking up on him like that. His chastising protests are immediately silenced as he winces, Hak’s hand wrapping around the genius’s left wrist and pulling his stiff fingers up to his gaze for better scrutiny. It’s apparent that he has just awoken, for his black hair is still slightly tousled from sleep and his bright blue eyes are not as clear as they normally are.

  The ex-general seats himself upon a log adjacent to Yoon, his grip surprisingly gentle as he sets the young boy’s hands in his lap. He yawns as his fingers begin to knead at the boy’s small left palm, ignoring Yoon’s hiss of discomfort at the strange sensation alighting his flesh. It feels as though he’s being stuck with pins and needles all over, trying to fight against the urge to flinch away and pull back.

  “Pain’s good,” Hak’s voice rumbles as he continues to massage Yoon’s fingers, tugging upon them and shaking them out one by one. There is still a husky grogginess to his voice as he works. “Means the blood’s flowing back.”

  Yoon grimaces at his left hand as Hak begins to work on his right one next, flexing his fingers and feeling so very useless. “I’m not stupid,” he grumbles. “I know that.”

  Hak doesn’t even flinch at the tone. “Didn’t say you were,” he drawls, impervious to the young boy’s attitude, having grown up around countless children of the Wind Tribe, along with the feisty Yona. “Just don’t do stupid things like staying up all night and doing repetitive motions.”

  Yoon frowns somewhat petulantly and watches the beast’s fingers as they work, admitting to himself that maybe perhaps it was a rather ridiculous thing to do, given how much he relies on his hands. The prickling sensation in his left hand has dulled, leaving behind a residual ache that will wear off as the day goes on. He supposes that he should thank the towering man, but his words are lost as Hak finishes and stands, stretching his arms up over his head with a hearty groan. Yoon flexes his fingers and begins to stand himself in order to prepare breakfast, but he is stopped by Hak’s command to stay seated.

  “You’re done,” he says matter of factly, ignoring Yoon’s rising protest. “You’ll just lose a finger if you try to cut anything right now.”

  He is most definitely not pouting. He stomps off towards the tent that he shares with Yona instead, huffing that he can manage something as simple as cooking a meal, but ultimately feels the fight go out of him as he glances over his shoulder at Hak, who is already gathering the necessary tools in order to feed the morons that he calls his companions.

  Maybe allowing someone else to take care of him would be okay, but just this once, of course. He has a reputation to uphold.


	5. Weave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Fluff.  
> Yet another one and I’m all too happy to oblige!  
> T

  “How can you not know how to _braid_?” Yoon practically shouts in his disbelief, completely oblivious to the blush creeping along Yona’s cheeks at having yet another one of her shortcomings pointed out for the entire world to scrutinize. He sighs, shaking his head and gathering the twine together. “I’ll teach you later,” he states with conviction as he stands. “I have to start prepping for dinner, so don’t wander too far, alright?”

  She nods numbly and he brushes off her silence as he heads back towards the fire where all of their packs are gathered. He does not see her fingers coming up to fiddle with the red strands beneath her hooded cape with timid hesitation, her embarrassed gaze downcast as she slowly stands and heads off into the forest alone.

  But Jae Ha does.

 

 

  He finds her beside the stream, her face intense with concentration as she tries to untangle the mess that she’s made in her hair while attempting to use the water’s reflection as a mirror. Determination is written all over her face, as well as frustration and aggravation.

  So cute.

  “You know, Yona dear,” he says gently as he seats himself beside her, smiling at the small squeak of surprise that escapes her as her hands scramble away from the telling knot in her strands. “Yoon isn’t the only one that knows how to braid. It truly isn’t that hard to learn if you have a patient teacher. Would you like me to instruct you?”

  She’s stiff beside him, her hands fisted in her lap and face hidden from view as she tilts her head down that much further. He thinks that perhaps he has pushed too far, until her meek voice, so small and shy, asks him timidly, “You wouldn’t mind?”

  He smiles and tilts his head at her. “Of course! But first,” his hands comes up in order to remove the ribbon tying his own hair back and away from his face. “You’ll need something a little longer for suitable practice.”

  Violet eyes are round as she watches him give his head a small shake, his fingers gliding through the long green silk effortlessly, her hand reaching out to touch before pausing in hesitation. He urges her forward wordlessly, holds back his sigh of pleasure at her touch, allows her to play and explore at her leisure before they begin. His own fingers show her how to part the strands before arranging her fingers accordingly, his voice calm and gentle as he patiently walks her through the steps. She fumbles a few times, which is to be expected, but he does not scold her, merely urges her to try again, teasing her gently to pull a smile from her every once in awhile.

 

 

  It is here that Zeno finds them, sitting beside the gentle stream, the green dragon imparting his wisdom upon the once sheltered young princess. It looks like they are having fun and he wants to join the party, too! He stops and smiles brightly at their greetings, rocking back on his heels restlessly behind the princess as he watches her work. “Not bad at all,” he praises, delighting in the bright smile that graces her delicate features. “Has Ryokuryuu taught you any of the more complex ones yet?”

  Two sets of curious eyes look his way and he happily seats himself behind Yona, his arms coming around her and hands covering hers in order to instruct her how to pull smaller pieces in order to make more intricate weaves, Jae Ha’s own gaze downward as he watches their movements in order to log away the information for future reference.

 

 

  What are they all _doing_?

  Kija has been sent to retrieve them; it’s time for Yona to practice her swordsmanship with Hak and it’s been suspiciously silent without the rambunctious Zeno or ornery Jae Ha lurking around, which is never a good thing. He stops short at the sight before him, a twinge of jealousy being quickly extinguished by his rising curiosity as he approaches. They’re all...braiding?

  He wants to try. It can’t be that hard, if all three of them have been able to learn the skill. If it can be harnessed into future use in order to better serve his mistress, he will obtain any knowledge available to him. He plants himself beside Jae Ha, his gaze intense and focused as he leans forward to watch the princess’s fingers fumble a few times, only for Zeno to gently re-direct her movements with a patience that only he can possess.

  Kija stops them twice to have them repeat the movements; he didn’t catch it the last time around. “Slow down,” he pleads. “I can’t follow!” He will get this come hell or high water.

 

 

  Hak and Shin-ah are silent for two completely different reasons as they stare at the strange little group settled in by the stream, the blue haired dragon immediately running over in his piqued excitement, eager to play and participate in something that has captured their attentions so thoroughly. 

  Hak merely sighs as he slowly trudges over to them. He’s not in the mood to listen to Yoon’s attitude tonight. “Guys, c’mon. Yoon’s gonna be pissed if we don’t head back,” he mutters as he crouches down in between Zeno and Kija, bored with having to be the adult in this situation. His brow furrows at the state of the droopy-eyed pervert’s hair, which is littered with so many damn strange braids that he can’t be anything but impressed. “Wait-“ he shoves the white snake aside in order to get closer and get a better look at one of the more sloppy looking ones. “This one’s wrong.”

  Jae Ha looks amused at the statement while Kija merely huffs at him and shoves him back lightly, “How would _you_ know? I’ve seen it done in our village for years, so I know how it goes!”

  Hak frowns at him before taking a more comfortable seat. “Seeing as how it originated in the Wind Tribe, I think I know what I’m talking about.” He fights the urge to stick his tongue out at the obnoxious pretty boy as Yona turns to him, excitement glittering in her eyes as she begs him to show her.

  He sighs but agrees, Zeno scooting aside in order to allow the former general to take his place behind the small woman. Hak scoops her up and settles her into his lap effortlessly, his larger frame encompassing hers as he reaches forward and parts Jae Ha’s hair into the correct formation. He quickly pulls forth dusty recollections of his childhood and sets to work, instructing her to pay attention.

  Almost immediately, Kija stops him, begging him to slow down. “I can’t follow!”

 

 

  Dinner is getting cold and they’ve all just disappeared. Morons, the lot of them. Where could they have possibly gone?

  Yoon grumbles under his breath as he trudges through the forest, clenching his hands into tight fists when he comes upon them down by the stream, lazing about without a care in the world or a single worry as to how he was faring without them. He’d actually been worried there, for a minute. The nerve of them!

  Coming closer, he stops. What is going on here, exactly? The perverted green dragon’s hair is filled with braids, they’re all huddled together and all of them are focused on Zeno’s strands as Yona’s fingers attempt to follow the thunder beast’s slowly drawled out instructions.

  Morons, the lot of them.


	6. Compare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: the boys comparing weapons and then trying them out  
> T

 

 

  It’s not that he’s picky when it comes to weapons, it’s just that he’s never really given it too much thought.

  Having been a general, he’s been trained since an early age to be able to fight with any available weapon at any given time during any type of scenario. Elder Mundok had repeatedly drilled into him that there was nothing more useless than a warrior only proficient in one skill. Taking his mentor’s words to heart, he’d practiced the bow until his fingers could no longer wrap around the string to pull it taut. He’d acquired agility at hand to hand combat at the price of several split lips and bruised jaws. His hands had blistered severely as he’d fought to master his guandao, running drill after drill until his arm felt as though it would fall out of its socket and his palms would never heal.

  It wasn’t in vain, that was for sure. One certainly didn’t earn the nickname the Thunder Beast of Kouka in their sleep, after all. It all came with hard work and perseverance.

  And not being an asshole about what to wield. Luckily, he’d never really considered himself picky when it came to weapons. Snobbery in that department would earn one a free ticket to the afterlife, and he had a reckless princess to look after. A blade was a blade. He didn’t really have a preference.

  Or so he’d thought.

  Hak holds the little dagger up where he can study it better in the sunlight, watching the bright beam reflect off of the freshly sharpened blade. He scrutinizes it, turning it over in his palm and testing its slight weight with discrimination.

  “This uncivilized thing is rather strangely balanced…”

  Hak half turns to regard Jae Ha, watching the green dragon warrior trying to keep the lethal blade from plummeting towards the earth as he holds it under his arm like he’s seen the ex general do so easily hundreds of times. His eyes are narrowed in concentration as he hefts the tall weapon up, his arm shaking slightly from the strain of trying to keep the weight distributed in a more comfortable angle.

  Jae Ha puffs a little from exertion as he struggles. “How can you even _swing_ this thing?”

  Hak holds one of the Ryokuryuu’s tiny daggers up to his eye, squinting down the line of the blade’s edge to ensure that it isn’t curved whatsoever. “You gotta get your weight behind it or else the swing won’t have any power,” he practices flicking his wrist like he’s seen the flying pervert do a million times, but he can’t seem to get the motion right. There’s no _way_ he’s telling _him_ that. “By the way- you break it, I break _you_.”

  On that note, Jae Ha hands off the rather unglamorous weapon to Shin-ah, who accepts it’s weird weight slightly better before handing his fellow warrior his own weapon. The green dragon groans beneath the sheer weight of the sword, his cheeks puffing out slightly from the heavy mass threatening to dislocate his wrist. What was _with_ these guys? Didn’t they know that sometimes less was more?

  Shin-ah swung the guandao with more finesse than Hak had expected him to, but he supposes that it only comes more naturally to someone who’s basically been self taught in swordsmanship. Hak frowns as he watches the blue dragon get a better hold on his weapon in a matter of minutes than he did during the first year of ownership. Fast learner indeed.

  Kija stands off to the side, balancing the pointed tip of one of Jae Ha’s many extremely sharp daggers upon the tip of one of his dragon’s claws, looking almost bored while his impervious hand slides to and fro in order to keep the weapon from tumbling over. Hak supposes that he would be bored, too, if his entire hand was a weapon of mass destruction in and of itself.

  Turning back to the tree trunk, Hak attempts to get the little knife to hit his intended mark, scowling when it goes off course by a good four inches. Why was this so damn hard? It’s basically just an arrow without a shaft! This should be easy and instead it’s just pissing him off.

  Jae Ha comes to stand beside him, slightly out of breath as he hefts the Seiryuu’s large blade up onto his shoulder, eyes widening briefly as he leans off kilter and fights to right his balance. He grunts and then breathes a heavy sigh, blowing his bangs out of his eyes and allowing himself to focus on the rays of slight annoyance emanating from the Thunder Beast. He’s usually always irritated whenever Jae Ha’s around, but this is something else entirely.

  Hak carefully plucks another knife from the pile upon the boulder, studying the edge of the blade and mimics the pervert’s technique by placing the simplistic hilt in between his knuckles with a wrinkled nose. “That _can’t_ help your aim,” he grumbles emphatically to the Ryokuryuu. He meets Jae Ha’s raised brows with a flat look of disgruntlement, referring to the way that the flying dragon holds his knives. “That’s just for show, right?”

  Jae Ha chuckles lightly as he struggles somewhat to lower Shin-ah’s sword without injuring himself. He hands the infernal thing over to Hak, who trades the tiny dagger for it with ease, his mouth canting in approval at the weight of the Seiryuu’s well cared for weapon in his grip, his eyes studying the hilt in appreciation as he steps off to the side. This was much better.

  Jae Ha collects his remaining knives and adjusts his stance. He rolls his shoulders and takes a deep breath, his aim upon the fallen log at the base of Hak’s practice trunk. “It’s not about a swinging movement. This isn’t like your guandao,” he states as he holds his hand up before pulling it back. The little daggers whistle as they slice through the air, thunking into the log and forming a perfectly straight line. “It’s about staying relaxed and not overthinking,” he states as he walks over to the log and plucks his weapons out of the soft wood one by one, snatching the remaining one off of Kija’s fingertip on his way back. “Also, you have to aim slightly higher than you think you should.”

  He returns them to the confines of his jacket as he watches Hak hold up Shin-ah’s sword, the muscles in the former general’s arm shaking ever so slightly while fighting to keep the correct form with the additional weight. Both Kija and Shin-ah are dumbfounded. Hak seems as puzzled by it as they do.

  All three men turn to see the silent Seiryuu swinging Hak’s weapon around with minimal effort. The two dragon warriors allow their gazes to slide to the ex general in silent sidelong glances as the dark haired man sours noticeably.

  Annoying.


	7. The Days are Long and the Years are Short

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Kija Birthday Fluff
> 
> (Since the birthdays are spaced the way they are…) Kija attempts to neglect his own birthday because getting ready for Yona’s birthday is obviously more important. He doesn’t get away with it.  
> T

  In a few days he’ll be another year older.

  The subject of birthdays circulates around the campfire, with mostly everyone knowing roughly the month (if not the exact day) that they announced their presence to the world, along with how long they’ve been upon this earth. Yoon admits that he’s forgotten the exact day of his own, but knows for sure that it was sometime in September. Near the end of it, he thinks?

  Hak states that his is the ninth day of August, smiling as Zeno chirps that his own falls upon the thirtieth of the exact same month!

  Jae-Ha looks falsely contemplative, his feigned ignorance fooling no one, and it is ultimately pulled from him that he appeared in his village during the first week of May, when the flowers were blooming and the grass was as green as his own hair.

  Shin-ah murmurs that his is shortly after the New Year, when it’s cold outside and snow tends to fall from the sky.

  With Kija’s having already been revealed, it has now circled back to Yona, who insists that they should do something special for the white dragon warrior to celebrate!

  Her own birthday is coming up, Hak reminds her rather nonchalantly, unimpressed with her feeble attempt at dodging her turn. The very day after the ‘White Snake’s,’ as a matter of fact.

  Kija perks up at that, his spirit eager to celebrate such a wonderful occasion with her-

  Except that she looks so strangely contemplative. She offers a small hum of acknowledgment at the statement before staring into the flames with a small, yet somber frown.

  Kija wants to ask what has suddenly come over her, why she has become so serious all of a sudden, when it occurs to him: it has nearly been a year since her father’s murder, since she was run out of the palace and forced out of the only home that she’s ever known. Next week will be the first time he has turned another year older without his village around him, but it really doesn’t bother him that much. He can’t imagine what it must be like for her. The rest of them have come along on this journey with her willingly, but she was shoved into it without her consent from the very beginning.

  To have what should be a joyful celebration for her instead be marred by such an ugly event rubs him the wrong way. She doesn’t deserve that. It leaves a sour taste in his mouth as he wonders what would have happened had Hak not been there to aid her in escaping the palace on that fateful night. He should be grateful to the heathen for that much, at least.

  He ponders as he readies himself for sleep that night, trying to conceive an idea that will help them all gift her with something to smile about this year, instead of frown. It should be a light hearted day filled with new memories instead of a grave reminder of the life that she’s left behind.

  Ugh. His own birthdays were such an ordeal back in his village. It was almost a week long event, with a feast to begin and a candle-light vigil to end. His people would crowd outside of his room, praying for his health and prosperity to continue while offering up their gratitude at his mere presence.

  It wasn’t that terrible of a thing in the beginning, but the past three celebrations had been frightening when his granny had deemed it appropriate to offer up a ‘virginal offering’ as some sort of a gift. He shudders as the memories plague him, willing his mind to wipe away the residual horror while trying not to think about the reasonings as to why the old woman thought that trying to force him into siring an offspring was a palatable thing to do. It’s almost a relief to be out of there this year, to be honest. It’ll be nice to not really have to think about it for a change.

  He thinks on it while he falls asleep, on how he can help the young woman who has come to mean so much to him.

 

 

 

  They travel through several villages over the next few days, never staying in one for too long. Kija doesn’t think much of it, just follows Yoon’s orders to blend in as much as possible and not call attention to his hand if he is able. They come across a rather sizable market and he keeps himself busy making sure that Zeno stays out of trouble while Hak and Jae-Ha accompany Shin-ah to get their weapons sharpened. Yoon and Yona have disappeared and he assumes that they must be off to gather more supplies while they have the opportunity.

  They depart after awhile, with him beginning to grow weary as the afternoon stretches into evening. He assumes that they will be camping out once more, but is surprised to see that they are instead heading towards a larger town, his brow furrowed in curiosity when they come to a stop in front of an inn.

  Yona throws her arms up in the air and announces their surprise! They’re staying here for the night to celebrate his birthday!

  What? It’s not his-

  Oh. Yes it is.

  Kija merely blinks in shock. It was his birthday and he’d completely forgotten. He’d been so wrapped up in his thoughts lately and they’d been traveling so much that he hadn’t given it much thought. The days had slipped by so quickly that he’d hardly noticed.

  They check into their shared room and Zeno procures a deck of playing cards with a bright smile. He insists that they have a game after they’ve eaten, while Jae Ha pulls a rather nice looking bottle of liquor out of his pack with a mischievous smirk. Hak claps him on the shoulder in approval after they’ve toasted to their little party after dinner, jostling him lightly with a playful smile as Yoon hands Shin-ah a dried date to give to Ao.

  So _that_ was where everyone had gone during their trip to the market today. The thunder beast and his fellow dragon brothers had all been off gathering supplies, Yoon and Yona selling medicine to help fund their expenses while Zeno had been deemed as the distraction. What clever companions he has!

  The fair-haired dragon warrior and Yona go head to head in a game of chance, with her just narrowly winning by the very end. Everyone laughs and teases one another until the wine is gone, their blood warmed pleasantly from the alcohol, their stomachs full and spirits high. The night goes on and one by one, they all succumb to slumber.

  Except for Yona.

  Kija frowns as he sits up, her small silhouette bathed in the moonlight that pours in from the opened door that leads to the walkway outside, having been left open in order to allow a breeze to sift through their room. Judging by the quiet stillness, it must certainly be after midnight. She’s staring up into the night sky all alone, quiet and contemplative once again while her friends rest behind her.

  Approaching her carefully so as not to startle her, he keeps his voice down so as not to disturb the others and asks if he may join her. She nods and he settles himself beside her, returning her smile, though hers is far more radiant. She asks if he enjoyed himself this evening and he insists that he did, although he admits that he’s curious as to why they went through all of the effort for him when they should really be focusing on her instead?

  She regards him with a caring warmth that makes his chest ache, her eyes so very tender as she tells him that he’s so very important to them all, and that they wanted to celebrate this special day with him, given the fact that he does so much for them.

  Is he blushing? He really hopes he’s not, but is almost certain that he is. He awkwardly returns his affections for her and the others as she returns her gaze up to the sky, the stars reflecting in her eyes.

  Her voice is low and steady as she murmurs her amazement at how quickly time has passed by in the span of one year. He hums his agreement, comfortable silence stretching between them, the only sound the soothing lull of the crickets chirping and the even breaths of their slumbering companions.

  He’s about to break the silence but startles slightly at the feeling of something warm and soft brushing against his dragon’s claw, his eyes shooting down just in time to see her small hand reaching out for his. She laces their fingers together and he lifts his questioning gaze to her face, his eyes pulsing wide as a silent tear trails down her cheek.

  He allows her to squeeze his hand as she scoots even closer to him, drops her head to his shoulder and bites her lip to help her keep silent as she cries. He feels caught, unsure as to how to proceed. What can he do for her? Kija rests his cheek against the crown of her head and allows her to mourn the past year, her shoulders shaking as her exhale breaks on a quiet sob, his voice low and soothing as he murmurs, “Happy Birthday, princess,” to her gently.


	8. Struggle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: DD&HHB + kids  
> Different reactions to seeing the dragons/hak/yona interacting with village children or children in general  
> T

  The baby won’t stop crying and she’s beginning to panic.

  Hak turns just in time to see Yona’s face mirror the hysterical wails bellowing out of the infant, her eyes wide and arms stiff as she attempts to bounce the baby with (what he thinks are supposed to be) soothing movements. Zeno is trying to make silly faces at it to aid her, but it’s not working. 

  The mother had handed the small child off to the princess so that she could finish her laundry down by the river, the red-haired girl seated upon a stump and waving goodbye to the woman as Zeno had leaned over to waggle a finger at it. All had seemed well for the first few minutes or so, until the baby began to fuss just a tiny bit. Yona had tensed up immediately, unsure of how to proceed or what to even do with a baby to begin with. Mistake number one: never show your weakness to an agitated infant. They can sense fear.

  Hak’s really not sure why she agreed to watch it in the first place; she’s never been around a baby in her entire life! Even though seeing her accept the small being and cradle it in her arms had tugged at some weird little thread attached to his heart and pulled forth a hazy image from his dreams of her tending to their own child someday, he’d stifled it with a comment about her lack of motherly instincts and dodged the rock she’d thrown his way, eager to get away from the situation and suppress his emotional baggage at all costs.

  He’d popped his head around the corner to check on them a little while later, the scene the same as it had been at his departure just a few minutes ago. He’d decided to go and see what the others were up to, only to hear the babe’s fussing grunts and gurgles begin to grow, followed by her rapidly unraveling composure as it finally began to cry. He sighs heavily at the look on her face, the disheartened frown on her features enough to make him regret his earlier words as he shoulders his weapon and decides that it’s time to intervene.

 

  
  What should she do? She swallows her need to call out for help and fights to stay calm as Zeno tilts his head curiously at the now wailing child. Was it hungry? The mother had insisted that she’d just fed him before she left, so perhaps he was sick? Should she call for Yoon? What did _he_ know about babies? Probably about as much as her, and that isn’t much, she is rapidly discovering.

  A shadow falls upon the ground in front of her mere moments before Hak kneels beside her, placing his weapon on the ground as she tries her best to just ignore him, the jerk. She refuses to admit that he could possibly be right, that she has no motherly instincts to speak of and that she would have probably just been better off to have never even attempted to care for the child, let alone have any of her own.

  His large hands extend out to the now writhing little ball of fuss, lifting him out of her grasp with a tenderness that she’s only witnessed a handful of times. He adjusts his hold on the child as he slowly stands, his large hand swallowing up its tiny back as he props it up against his shoulder and begins to walk. His voice is low as he soothes it with gentle shushing sounds, walking in a bouncing pace back and forth as he pats the small being gently.

  It takes no time at all for the screams to fall silent as the infant dozes off against the ex-general’s chest, his face serene and peaceful while his little breath hiccups now and then. Hak rubs his hand against the baby’s back in a circular motion a few more times, turning so that he shades the infant from the bright rays of the sun.

  He makes it look so easy and it stings her pride at how naturally it all comes to him. The mother returns at long last and smiles brightly at the state of her son, non the wiser of just how incompetent the young girl was whom she’d deemed worthy of watching her little bundle of joy.

  Yona feels her stomach sink as she comes to realize that maybe she doesn’t have any motherly instincts after all. Was Hak right? There are so many things that a woman is expected to do, and this is just another mark against her, the list of skills that she is lacking growing with each passing day.

 

  
  She’s been down ever since this morning and it’s really starting to put him on edge. She sulks around the campsite, using a stick to draw meaningless shapes in the dirt while she chews on her thoughts and stays eerily silent for the remainder of the afternoon. She doesn’t want to practice her swordsmanship, so he knows that something’s eating away at her.

  He can’t take it anymore. He seats himself beside her on the log that she’s resting on and nudges her with her shoulder. “Hey.”

  “What?” she grumbles to him in a petulant tone, her eyes still on her fidgeting doodles as she pointedly tries her best to ignore his presence.

  Oh, she should know by now that that particular trick doesn’t work. He nudges her again. “Mind telling me why you’re pouting?”

  “ ‘M not _pouting_ ,” she stubbornly insists. “Go away.”

  Instead he leans into her, nearly knocking her over as he allows himself to rest his weight against her fully. She crumbles momentarily before gathering her strength, cries out and tries her best to push him off of her, but it’s obvious that there’s no way that she’ll be able to get him to budge without assistance, and they’re alone for the time being.

  “Hak,” she whines, huffing with exertion. “Just leave me _alone_!”

  “Nah,” he replies flippantly, staring into the smoldering embers that Yoon had banked earlier that morning. He wonders if they have enough firewood for the night as Yona continues to struggle against him pointlessly. “Not ‘til you admit that you’re upset about the baby still.”

  She puffs out her cheeks and turns away from him, arms crossing over her chest as best as she’s able, seeing as how he’s still half draped against her. “Am _not_ …”

  Liar. He sighs before giving her a break and sitting upright once more. He chases her averted gaze and continues to pester her. “So what if you couldn’t get him to stop? You’ve never done anything like that before.”

  Her voice is so quiet that he nearly misses her mumbling, “ _You_ could do it…” as she squirms in her seat a little.

  He scoffs, “Well, yeah! I babysat a lot growing up, remember?” Gods, there were _so_ many damn kids in the Wind Tribe and every time he’d turned around, someone was having another one. They all took care of each other, but seeing as how he was one of the eldest, the responsibility usually fell to him. He’d learned real quick what did and what didn’t work when it came to a screaming child, and it was knowledge that one just didn’t unlearn, no matter how many years had passed.

  Of course she wouldn’t understand that, though. People tended to fill girls‘ heads with utter nonsense, such as the one that stated that all women just had an innate natural instinct on how to care for children with little to no effort on their part. It was the biggest load of shit in the world, but they didn’t know any better and had never thought to question the lies that were spoon fed to them from their early youth.

  Yona was no exception. Hak sighed heavily and threw an arm around her, squeezing her shoulder as he spoke. “Hey, don’t stress about it, okay?” He swears he sees her eyes flicker his way. Progress. “You’ll probably never even have to worry about stuff like that! It’s not like you’re married or romantically involved anyway, right?”

 

  
  The others return to camp to find it in disarray, Yona calling out insulting names while throwing anything that she can get her hands on at her bodyguard, who’s yelling at her and insisting that he ‘didn’t mean it that way,’ and to ‘cut it out before she pulls a muscle!’

  Kija shouts at Hak over the commotion and insists that he stop acting like such a brute towards their delicate princess while Jae Ha runs a hand down his face in exhaustion. Zeno bounds forward and states that he’s next to play, while Shin-ah catches a flying walnut and hands it to Ao wordlessly.

  Yoon just rolls his eyes and watches the scene before him, wondering exactly when it was that he became the mother of six rowdy children.


	9. Brothers in Blood and Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Kija, Shinah  
> Prompt: Shinah calls Kija “big brother” for the first time.  
> T

  Family. He’d had one once, in a village a fair amount of distance from here, where the people had treated him like some sort of divine being worthy of their undying devotion and constant worshipping, like he was some sort of sacred deity instead of a regular mortal, just like the rest of them.

  They were his first family and he’ll always remember them. He cherishes them and holds them close to his heart, looks forward to the day where he will return and share his many adventures and countless stories with them all. He’ll tell them just how amazing his companions truly were and how wonderful the princess is in both heart and spirit, his tales sure to captivate them all, his family.

  Yes, they were his first, but they cannot hold a candle to the one that he has found himself a member of currently. Fate has pulled them all together, but it is their desires to be near one another that binds them so tightly. At any given time any one of them could have told her “no,” could’ve denied the princess her request that they join her on this journey. Any one of them could have left at any time, returned to their homes or abandoned this cause without a word of farewell or so much as a backwards glance.

  Instead, they choose to stay. They continue to fight and struggle, to laugh and grow even closer as the days melt into weeks and the weeks slide into months. They each grow and change, encourage one another and strengthen each other as they continue on. It had never occurred to him that someday, they might all have to part ways once more, the vague notion that had once never bothered him causing him to taste the sour notion upon his tongue with more and more bite with each passing month. It claws at his stomach and churns the heaviness in his chest. He doesn’t want to lose this group of close-knit friends that he has grown to call his brothers. Even if they don’t feel the same, that is what they will always be in his heart.

 

 

  Ugh, sometimes he hates them.

  The way that the beast treats their gentle leader causes his blood to boil. He aims for Hak’s throat, but the devil is fast and always dodges with minimal effort. He shouts at the dark haired man, insists that he cease his cruel and untrue words about the princess’s lack of beauty, but instead, Hak has the nerve to ignore him as he stands off to the side, scratching idly at his cheek and whistling a merry tune. He calls him a snake once again and Kija feels his fingers itch with the need to scoop Hak’s eyeballs out of his thick skull.

  He will kill him someday, he swears.

  The vile language that the Ryokuryuu releases is pure filth, words dripping with lecherous intent and curse words so very creative in their meaning that it has dropped Kija’s  jaw on more than one occasion and turned his skin a rosy hue more times than he can count. He sputters and whips his head around, praying to any deity listening that the delicate princess is not around to be tainted by such awful words and lets out a heavy sigh of relief at her absence. Jae Ha has no shame, retelling countless vulgar stories by the light of the fire while he partakes in his sake, trying his best to tempt the others and merely shrugging a shoulder in their refusals.

  Kija urges the green-haired pirate to watch his language around their younger dragon brother, the Seiryuu so very sheltered and impressionable. He swears that if he ever hears the silent man repeat a single word that the flying dragon has ever uttered, he’ll disembowel the pervert himself, and with glee, he might add.

  Shin-ah never truly says anything, though, thankfully, much less how he feels about their strange little group. He is always silent, always watching, always soaking in while rarely contributing in conversation, otherwise. Kija often wonders if he feels the same way about them as he does, but cracking into that vault requires both time and patience.

  Luckily, he has that in spades, thanks to having to tolerate Zeno and his antics.

  He understands that the Ouryuu is invincible, but Kija’s poor heart is not, and he doesn’t know how many more times he’ll be able to witness the immortal warrior become impaled upon a weapon or nearly burned to ashes before he loses his sanity or feels his soul shatter into thousands of glittering fragments. There’s only so much a man can take, watching one of his dear brothers break his bones and wobble to his feet to press onwards, with Kija fighting to reign in his terror and keep the contents of his stomach where they belong.

  They get along well enough, he supposes. They fight together to protect the young girl amongst them, and if that isn’t what matters the most, Kija’s not sure what does.

 

 

  His body aches but he will not stop. He will endure every blow and soldier through every hit, will not cease until he knows that they are all safe. He will not allow any of them to come to harm. He will protect them as long as he can still breathe and lift his arm.

  The battle comes to a close at last and his torn clothing is sticking to his wounds, blood caking the once white material to his skin. He’s fairly certain that it will require stitching by the feel of it, but there are more important matters to tend to at the moment.

  Shin-ah struggles to stand beneath the oppressive paralysis upon his body, trying to use his sword as leverage with his legs unable to bend to his will. Upon the third attempt, Kija intervenes, scooping beneath the Seiryuu’s shoulder and draping his arm over him, ignoring the searing pain of his injury as he encourages the blue-haired dragon warrior to lean his weight against him. They slowly rise to standing, Kija swallowing back his yelp of discomfort as they begin to head over towards the rest of the group, where Yoon is yelling at Zeno for being so reckless.

  Kija grits his teeth against the sting but freezes at the quiet murmur that pulls him into shocked silence. Shin-ah’s voice is like the gentle calm of the night breeze as he murmurs to him, “Thank-you, big brother.”

  He swears he’s not crying.

 

 

   
  They all set up camp that evening with slow and stiff movements, nursing their wounds and fighting against their exhaustion. Shin-ah’s fingers are finally able to make a fist, and he takes over Kija’s task of setting up the tent without a word, deaf to the fair-skinned man’s protests and allowing the Hakuryuu the chance to rest his injured shoulder for a moment.

  Yoon calls out to them, ordering them all to head over to his station by the fire so that he may begin treating their wounds one by one. He’s arranging his supplies as Kija begins to wearily make his way over, but he’s intercepted by Zeno, who takes his dragon hand and pulls him along towards the stream nearby.

  It is here that the Ouryuu begins to assist Kija in pulling away the clothing that is stuck to his skin by the dried blood caked heavily around his shoulder, both men pausing as the pale young man hisses in pain. It hurts. It _hurts_ , but he needs to push through it. He grits his teeth and breathes heavily through his nose, clenches his fingers into white-knuckled fists as they begin once more.

  Zeno murmurs softly to him, his touch as gentle as he is able, given the circumstances. In spite of the Ouryuu’s soothing tone, his actions continue to burn and tug maliciously upon Kija’s wound as his clothing is slowly peeled away. Sweat begins to bead along his pale brow at the effort to keep silent and not make a fool of himself. He is a grown man, capable of destruction and a force to be reckoned with. The blood of a dragon flows through his veins. He should be able to stomach anything, just knowing that any injury earned while protecting his companions is an honor in and of itself.

  He can feel the empathy from the blonde haired warrior rolling over him in waves as his gentle fingers halt once again, his cool touch trailing along Kija’s inflamed skin while clucking his tongue at the severity of the gash. Oh, that doesn’t sound good. Zeno says nothing and both men half turn at the sounds of footsteps approaching them.

  Hak is silent and stoic as he appears and sets down a kettle of hot water upon a nearby rock, his robe pulled down to reveal his already bandaged wounds that Yoon has dressed. Jae Ha is not far behind him, one hand wrapped around a bottle of alcohol (seriously, how much does the man drink?), the other clutching supplies that have Kija’s brow furrowed in confusion. What’s going on, here?

  Jae Ha pours him a cup of the sake despite his protests, the grim look upon his face as insistent as his hand as he holds the beverage out to him and encourages him to knock it all back in one quick drink. He says nothing as Kija begrudgingly does as he is told, the fair haired warrior’s chest burning as he coughs and sputters. It takes no time at all for the effects to hit, thanks to his empty stomach. He feels warm and a little dizzy, but so much more relaxed than he had a few minutes ago, his tense frame loosening a bit as Zeno stands and brushes off his clothing.

  “Zeno will check on the others!” he states before heading back to camp, leaving the three men alone bedside the quiet stream.

  Hak is threading a rather menacing looking needle as Jae Ha dampens a cloth with the hot water from the kettle, steam rising from the rag in a thick cloud as he wrings out the excess water. Kija is having trouble keeping his focus but still obeys when he is instructed to turn around and face forward once more, the Ryokuryuu’s fingers digging into his arm with a tight grip in order to steady him. For what, he does not know. He’s not _that_ dizzy-

  The pain is blistering and pulls a harsh cry from Kija’s chest, the scalding water being used to clean his sensitive wound pulling the air from his lungs as he tries to flinch away. The rag is pressed tightly against his torn flesh and he cries out several pleas for the green-haired man to stop his actions. His request falls upon deaf ears, his claw digging into the earth beside him as tears rapidly begin to blur his vision. The pain is intense, blinding in its severity and unlike anything he has ever felt before. The rag is removed, but the relief is short lived as it is immediately replaced by another, the torture beginning anew as the gash throbs and he yells out in pain. He thinks he might pass out, the edges of his vision turning hazy as he fights against Jae Ha’s ceaseless grip. Perhaps it would be for the best to lose consciousness, allow him to escape this torture as numerous tears finally begin to fall.

  Hak’s arm appears before him as he kneels beside him, steadying Kija as he tucks the pale warrior’s head beneath his chin and pushes his tear-streaked face into his chest to muffle his wailing cries. Kija’s mortal hand digs into the ex-general’s arm with enough force that there are sure to be bruises later, but Hak says nothing of any discomfort as his deep voice encourages Jae Ha to hurry it along.

  The two men switch places once the wound has been deemed clean, Kija ducking his head and biting his lip in an attempt to keep his tears hidden and hiccuping breath silent as Hak’s steady hand sews him shut. There is no teasing or banter while they work, no light-hearted jabs as Kija’s unsteady breath shudders out of him. His is so very weary, the alcohol and adrenaline mixing together to form a strange elixir that drains him slowly and siphons his remaining energy. Hak ties off his suture while Jae Ha keeps himself occupied with cleaning the dirt away from the rest of Kija’s chest and arms, the Ryokoryuu’s fingertips pressing beneath Kija’s chin and encouraging him to tilt his head up so that he can wipe away the moisture from his cheeks, as well. Jae Ha gifts him with a small smile and light words of praise, which are barely registered as sleep pulls at Kija insistently.

  Hak drapes his coat around the Hakuryuu’s now bandaged shoulder and both men help him to stand, leading him back to camp slowly and silently.

 

  
  He goes to lie down in lieu of dinner, unsure if his churning stomach would even be able to handle anything at all, and freezes at the sight of Yona seated upon the floor of their tent. She smiles at his dumbfounded expression and pats the bedding in front of her, gesturing for him to come and lie down.

  Normally his face would turn a bright shade of red and he’d refuse, but he’s just far too tired to argue over impropriety and does as she asks, hoping his eyes don’t appear as swollen as they feel. He rests his head in her lap and settles down onto his un-injured side rather stiffly.

  Her fingers are in his hair and stroking along his scalp as Yoon also steps inside of the tent a little while later, settling himself beside them and getting to work upon mending everyone’s damaged clothing. The others file in one at a time, quiet and exhausted, all silent and thoughtful as the needle dances, erasing the evidence of the day’s earlier activities as Kija falls into a deep slumber.

 


	10. Remind Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Scars  
> T

 

  He has scars that he’s hidden from the world and shown to no one.

  He’s only human. The ugly marks upon his skin tell stories of old wounds that have physically healed, but still linger heavily in his memory. They are the bookmarks in the chapters of his life that have helped shape him into the person that he is today. They are a constant reminder of why he has trouble falling asleep so freely, why he startles awake at the slightest noise and why he hates nothing more than to be bound by anyone or anything.

  They are unsightly. His sleeves keep them out of view, but he knows they are there, ready to catch him in a moment of quiet rest and drag him back into the hellish scenes of his past at a moment’s notice, to drudge up the helpless feelings of longing that used to overwhelm him in his youth, the desire to leave and scatter himself amongst the wind so pungent that it taunted him daily with every passing minute.

  The loneliness was the worst part. The only companion that he’d had used to make it well known how much he despised him for merely existing. The constant verbal poison that seeped from the young man’s tongue coated him with words of hatred, told him what a freak he was, insisted that he’d never fit in anywhere, no matter how far he’d go. The green scales that began below his knee were nothing but a reminder of what a strange beast he truly was, a brand upon his body that would do nothing but set him apart from others.

  Lies.

  He’s never felt more at home than he does at this very minute waking up beside her, her pale skin and fiery hair the first thing in his line of sight. His entire body aches from the drug that he’d ingested, his muscles weak and hand shaking slightly as he begins to reach for her, completely unsure as to whether or not she is real or merely a vision brought on by his inner most desires.

  The backs of his fingers come into contact with silken strands and his heart flutters in his chest, not due to the lingering effects of the drug, he’s almost certain. He’s taken many different drugs before, anything to dull the memories and replace them with new ones. He’ll try anything, experience anything to make up for lost time and help him to live his life to the fullest before it is snatched away.

  Hak glowers above him and Jae Ha thinks that perhaps it may happen sooner than he’d anticipated.


	11. Got Me Pacing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Romantic fic (nsfw or not) for any m/f couple of you choice (canonic or not).  
> T with slightly suggestive actions towards the end [we’re talking SUPER slight]

  He doesn’t understand how she’s been able to hide this from all of them for so long but she has, and he’d be lying if he were to say that he wasn’t at least a little impressed by the feat, especially for someone who is unable to suppress their emotions, like his dear little Yona.

  Jae Ha holds the wound upon her palm up to what little light remains in the sunset, scrutinizing it and taking in the redness along the cut’s edges. It looks angry and is surely at least a day old. He frowns up at her and she immediately averts her gaze, staring at absolutely nothing in particular and finding it downright fascinating as they sit beside the small stream. Tsk tsk. What a naughty child.

  Knowing what must be done, he holds her wrist in his hand to keep her right where she is, understanding all too well just how quickly an injury upon a hand can succumb to infection. This has gone far enough and she needs immediate treatment, especially if she hopes to survive Hak’s wrath. There is no time to waste, for Jae Ha has seen some nasty wounds go terribly awry in his youth and he refuses to allow her to fall into that same category.

  Delving into Yoon’s pack, his fingers finally wrap around the item that they are searching for and he removes the cork from the small bottle of alcohol that Yoon keeps for disinfecting more serious wounds with his teeth. He immediately tightens his hold on the princess as she realizes just what it is that he intends to do, stiffening in his grasp and tensing beneath his fingers, but he must not hesitate, for it needs to be done in order to help her.

  He feels sick.

  The plea to wait is barely past her lips when the liquid fire hits her flesh, pulling a small and pained cry from her as she struggles against his hold and fights to pull back. Jae Ha digs his teeth into the small cork still perched between his molars and reminds himself to stay strong as she begins to plead even more, her tone pulling at something deep within his chest that he’d thought long ago resistant to almost everything. The alcohol drips down her skin and falls to the earth below, staining the ground between them darker as he lets it do its intended purpose. She hisses and mewls in acute discomfort, her brow furrowed and teeth clenched as she squirms and whines, tears forming around her lashes against her consent.

  Jae Ha shushes her gently and apologizes softly, murmuring promises and assuring her that the pain will soon recede as his thumb strokes the soft and sensitive skin of her inner arm in comfort. It calms her, but only just, his free hand retrieving the roll of clean bandages from their stock as he also searches for a familiar flower with remarkable healing properties that Yoon has turned into a salve.

  The smell of the medicine pulls back memories of the spray of salt water, the very first time he’d experienced the hammering in his chest as Yona had clung both to him and the cliff, the hard rock digging into his back as he’d held her small body close in order to protect her from the harsh and unforgiving sea crashing onto the rocks below them, her small hand tightly clenched around the plant that she’d fought so hard to obtain.

  He thinks that it was then that his heart had first turned into a traitor, when he’d first witnessed the ferocity of her soul and the strength of her resolve, had gotten a glimpse at the powerful soul barely contained in such a tiny vessel, but it’s been so long now that he can hardly recall.

  Jae Ha’s fingertips smear the soothing balm onto the gash, trying his best not to pay attention to the sniffles coming from her as she swallows thickly and releases a shuddering breath. He wraps the soft gauze swiftly and efficiently, eager to finish with this nasty business and avoid causing her any more discomfort than he already has. He ties the bandage off and checks his work while he returns the items to Yoon’s bag somewhat distractedly. He is satisfied with his work. Not too shabby for a former pirate.

  “There,” he says with as bright a smile as he can muster, determined not to let her see how unsteady his hands are. Her wrist rests gently upon his fingers as he lifts her dainty hand up to his mouth, his warm breath bleeding through the strip of cloth as he places a soft kiss to her knuckles. His eyes glance up at her through green strands and he catches the slight blush upon her cheeks, which lands a blow straight to his poor heart as he murmurs, “All done.”


	12. River Runs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Youseimeinami says: Hi Jeana <3 :) I saw you're taking prompts, and since I LOVE your style and your akatsuki no yona fics I wanted to ask for one: Jae Ha teaching Yona to swim (she was raised isolated in Hiryuu's castle so she never learned to swim). Have a wonderful day :) <3
> 
> T

  The water is swift and unforgiving as it sweeps them along its rapid current, tossing them this way and that, never allowing them much more than a few hasty seconds to fill their lungs with precious air before pulling them back below the surface once more.

  Yona clings to Jae Ha fiercely, her grip upon his black jacket as tight as his arms that are wrapped protectively around her, each one keeping the other as close to them as possible while the water rushes all around them.

  All she’d wanted to do was see just how much water had accumulated in the creek after all of the heavy rainfall they’d received. She’d just wanted to see what all of the villagers had been talking about. How high could it have possibly gotten? Was it truly as dangerous as everyone had made it seem? She’d listened to them when they had told her not to get too close. She’d minded their warnings but crept closer to the edge anyway; she just wanted to sneak a better look, that was all.

  At Hak’s call of her name, she’d turned to face them all, smiling and waving to show them that she was alright, that they didn’t need to fuss over her so much-

  When the soft ground had given way beneath her feet by the high river bank, she swore that she’d never forget the looks on everyone’s faces as everything around her froze for a brief moment in time, the shock barely settling onto her own dazed features before she was plummeting backwards, the cold water taking her breath away as she disappeared beneath the chaotic fray of the churning rapids. She’d surfaced a little ways further down from where she’d fallen, fighting to keep her head above the water so that she could call out for help.

  Shouts and calls of her name were barely registered as she was pulled along, fear turning her body into a leaded weight as she rebelled against the panic igniting along her every nerve. What should she do? There was nothing to grab onto and it was taking all of her strength and energy just to stay afloat amongst the frenzy. She couldn’t swim and soon she was going to pay the ultimate price for her curiosity.

  Firm hands had tugged her tightly against a hard body, fear quickly being extinguished as Jae Ha had turned her around to face him, the calm radiating from him causing her lip to tremble as he’d called her name and wrapped her in his embrace just before they reached the roughest part of the river.

 

  Yona coughs and takes in great gulping breaths of air as she heaves her body onto the river bank, crawling up onto the solid land and collapsing onto her back in her exhaustion. Her clothes are completely soaked through and plastered to her trembling form as she continues to take in as much air as she can into her aching chest, her lungs burning from the residual abuse that they’d suffered through.

  Jae Ha’s hand lands upon her shoulder, urging her to turn over onto her side to lessen the strain on her body, patting her upper back as he gently instructs her to slow down and calm herself before she hyperventilates. His fingers tangle themselves in her knotted hair, stroking the crimson strands away from her face as he softly calls her name.

  She hadn’t even realized that she’d been sobbing.

 

  
 Weeks go by and none of her companions allow her to go near any body of water higher than her knees by herself. It’s as endearing as it is annoying, no matter how many times she insists that she can manage. She understands their concern, but do they really think her so incompetent?

  Even Hak hovers more than he used to, oppressive and irritating as they set up camp near a small and clear lake. He puts himself between her and the glassy surface of the water, fixing her with a flat look of unimpressed boredom as she pouts and glares at him. She doesn’t want to sit around the camp all day! “What I learned how to swim? Hm? Would _that_ make you trust me again?”

  He stops and turns to regard her over his shoulder. “Are you asking me to teach you?” He places his weapons upon the ground and turns to face her. “Because I really don’t have time for that right now.”

  The yellow dragon warrior hops into view and throws his arms around Yona with a big grin. “Zeno can teach you, Miss! Zeno is a good swimmer!”

  Before Yona can even open her mouth, Ki-ja interjects, insisting that he be the one to instruct their master in how to properly learn such an important skill.

  “The way I remember it, neither you nor Shin-ah can swim,” Jae Ha says idly as he comes to stand beside the others. He pushes his long green hair over his shoulder with a graceful flick of the wrist and smiles at Ki-ja’s grumbling. “Pulling you two out of that stream is something I’d care not to repeat, if I can help it.”

  Yoon pushes past them, his arms filled with linens as he huffs, “Well, _someone_ better teach her, because you’re all starting to really bug me.”

 

  
 In the end, it is decided that Hak will teach her when there is more suitable time, but for now, there are supplies that need gathered and medicine to be made. The former general heads into the forest with Ki-ja and Yoon in search of medicinal herbs, with Shin-ah left to patrol the area while Yona rests at camp, guarded by Jae Ha and Zeno.

  She feels restless. She knows that if she goes near the lake she’ll most likely be caught and scolded, but she can’t stay cooped up at the camp due to their ridiculousness! With a heavy sigh of defeat she draws senseless shapes and designs into the dirt with a small stick, seated upon a log while trying not to feel sorry for herself and failing miserably.

  “Oh, I do hate it when you look like that, Yona dear.”

  Yona lifts her gaze to watch as Jae Ha slowly approaches, coming to stand before her as she tilts her head back in order to see him better against the late afternoon sun. She brings her hand up to shield her eyes and frowns at his outstretched hand. She blinks before peering back up at him in question, but he merely smiles and winks at her.

 

  “Are you afraid?”

  Yona feels a shiver race down her spine at Jae Ha’s inquiring tone and tries to silence the voice of the rising unease inside of her. Memories of swirling channels still haunt her and she swallows tightly before tilting her head down in shame. “A little,” she admits softly.

  His hands hold hers steady as they slowly begin to wade further out into deeper water, the cool temperature a welcome respite from the day’s heat as a pair of dragonflies buzz by them. “Yona dear, I won’t let anything happen to you,” he assures her, urging her to allow the water to come up to her navel as he steps back. “Who better to teach you to swim than a pirate?”

  “ _Former_ pirate,” she murmurs under her breath with a small smile, biting her lip at the pitiful look that he gives her. Her clothes are beginning to get heavy, but not nearly as much as they were during the river mishap. Per Jae Ha’s instructions, she’s abandoned her heavy cloak and has shed as many layers as her modesty will allow, the dragon warrior himself having placed his outer robe next to her belongings back on shore. “What do we do first?”

  Jae Ha smiles softly at her, continuing to slowly beckon her further and further towards the middle of the lake, his back to the light reflecting off of the crystal clear surface of the water. “Well, first we need to work on floating. In order to do that, we need to go out just a little more.”

  Zeno is up on the shore, perched upon a boulder and smiling while he waves enthusiastically at them. She gives a quick wave back before returning her attention back to the present. Right. She was learning how to swim so that she wouldn’t cause anyone any more worry. She can see their feet beneath the rippling surface, stirring up the sand beneath her toes and it makes her smile to see that her green dragon warrior is still wearing his boots. Of course he is.

  Jae Ha drags her attention back up to him as he instructs her to come closer, the princess allowing him to guide her as he urges her to slowly lower herself down into the water, his hands placing hers on top of his shoulders and instructing her to hold onto him until she feels confident enough to let go.She nods and digs her fingers into the fabric of his black jacket, biting her lip and soaking in every piece of advice that he gives her as he speaks to her in soothing tones, allows her to get a feel for her body’s buoyancy as she tests her ability to keep her head up while bringing her legs up beneath her.

  Jae Ha’s hands are on her waist in an instant, steadying her and keeping her head from dipping below the surface. He commends her on her form and encourages her to keep going, praising her when he backs away and tugs her hands free from his shoulders in order to pull her along gently. He instructs her to kick her legs, smiling as she grips him tightly with her small fingers and verifies that he won’t let go.

  As if he could.


	13. Tragic Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Trust  
> T

  The look upon his face when she’d shook her head at his adamant insistence that they leave this town was something that had made her stomach flip in unease. She’d never seen Jae Ha look so serious, displeasure at her refusal turning his normally warm gaze into something cold and hard. It was unsettling. It had caused the hairs along the back of her neck to prickle in warning. Did she truly dare to anger a dragon and awaken its wrath?

  He’d yelled at her. He’d actually raised his voice in his desperation to reach her. Her hands are trembling slightly now as she prepares for their upcoming investigation into the drug plaguing the town, fighting to remember his instructions as the day’s earlier activities continue to loop in her mind on repeat. She’d upset him and it’s still bothering her. She has the best intentions, though.

  He’d been so afraid. He’d been so concerned and worried over her well-being, as well as the lives of the others. A wave of guilt washes over her, halting her actions as her fingers feel stiff while trying to remove her hooded cape. Was she truly being selfish by involving her comrades into something so incredibly dangerous? Was Jae Ha right? Should they just mind their own business for once and monitor the situation before diving in headfirst?

  How could he ever think that it would be possible for her to turn her back upon this poor town? His face had looked so shocked as she’d straightened her spine and strengthened her resolve, told him that she’d never allow something that had hurt him to continue its existence in this world, as if having someone care for him was such a foreign concept. It makes her heart ache at the notion, to think that he might possibly believe himself to be deemed so unworthy of such care. 

  His eyes hadn’t even been able to meet hers as he’d stated that if he felt that her life would be in danger, he wouldn’t hesitate to carry her away to safety, no matter how she’d protest. Tonight she is the bait, the thing that will draw out the evil drug’s hidden agendas while she dances and pulls the attention of the town’s resident addicts. She is the one who is sure to be in the most danger, yet she can’t help but feel the most afraid for her friends.

  She hangs her head in shame after she is in her borrowed clothing, unsure as how to next proceed. Should she remove them all from this situation? Her heart implores her to continue on with the plan, to help these people who are in such a horrible place. She remembers the sounds of Jae Ha’s tortured screams as he’d rampaged last night, tears brimming in her eyes as she’d fought to claw her way into the room and to him, to cradle him in her arms and protect him from the chemical that was causing him to shout and throw himself about. She clenches her fists and steels her resolve.

  The sound of approaching footsteps has her startling, her eyes whipping around to land upon the green dragon warrior as he turns the corner and comes to a stop as he sees her. His eyes are still intense, but they are much warmer than they had been earlier. She grips the robe around her and manages to return a weak smile as he comes even closer, standing before her and regarding her with intrigue.

  She feels strange beneath his scrutiny. He seems to be studying her clothing, his hand coming out to touch her and halting a mere inch away from the fabric draped around her shoulders.

  “Yona, dear,” he says with a tone as serious as death itself. “May I assist you?”

  She blinks at him, about to ask what he is referring to, seeing as how Yoon had already assisted her earlier in dressing her, but the look upon his face leaves no room or time for questioning, so she merely nods and allows him to turn her around to show him her back. She’s just beginning to wonder how he’d gotten past Hak and Kija (let alone Shin-ah), when she feels his hand upon the small of her back, heated even through the layers of fabric between them.

  His fingers tug the robe away from her skin and she fights back a gasp, his hands quick and movements precise as he begins to undress her. Hesitation and apprehension must be written all over the tense muscles of her back, for he pauses just long enough to assure her that he has only the best intentions at heart. She feels a blush beginning to warm her cheeks and merely nods once more silently. Of course she trusts him.

  Her stomach is now bare, her skin feeling chilled while exposed to the cool air inside of the inn. She keeps waiting for a teasing joke to help alleviate the tension in the space, but for once, he does not seem inclined to be his normally light-hearted self. His fingertips graze against her skin, so very warm and tender as he tightens the tie on the strip of cloth that barely covers her breasts. He comes to stand before her and kneels at her feet, her eyes widening as his hands begin to tear the fabric of her skirt, exposing her pale legs and allowing more air to sweep along her bare calf.

  How far does he intend to allow the rip to go? A small gasp escapes her at the sound of her skirt parting beneath his strength, her thigh now visible and leaving her feeling so very exposed as he continues to kneel before her. She swallows a small cry of shock as the skirt is now completely severed, her hands scrabbling to keep it against her and not reveal anything more. His hands brush against her knee and she fights against her flush as a small squeak escapes her. She turns her gaze away as she feels his eyes lift up to hers in question, chewing upon her lip in restless agitation as he rises to his feet once more.

  His hands now re-arrange the cloth, tying and draping it about her hips and securing it tightly. His ease at arranging a woman’s clothing has her questioning his past briefly before she shakes it away; he doesn’t inquire about hers, so she can at least return the favor. His hands still at last, pulling away from her as her own hands tug the robe back up over her shoulders. She can feel his roving gaze, can sense his approval at the changes in her costume and can tell that he now finds it satisfactory.

  She remembers his promise to remove her from the situation should it become far too dangerous for his liking and hears herself murmuring a small and meek apology to him for having upset him earlier. “I just don’t want anyone else to suffer like you had to last night,” she breathes, her eyes downcast as she studies the ground. “I was so scared for you, Jae Ha. I won’t allow anything that has hurt you to exist.”

  He says nothing as he continues to stand before her, her hands fisting into the fabric of her robe as she clutches it around her more tightly. She wonders if she’s irreparably damaged their friendship with her actions.

  His hand suddenly lands in her hair, gently ruffling the crimson strands as she tilts her head back to see him smiling above her, his voice filled with fondness as he chuckles softly, “So determined.”


	14. Golden Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: More Zeno and Yona interactions please!!!!
> 
> GLADLY!  
> T

  She moans as low as she is able before rolling over onto her side, her arms folded over her midsection as the throbbing in her lower abdomen sharpens ever so slightly. It’s been a long night, filled with restless hours of quiet begging for any being listening to just end her suffering and to put her out of her misery. She sends a silent prayer of a plea up to the heavens above that Yoon will come in to retrieve her for the day. Perhaps he has some sort of a remedy for the pains that plague her every month. They’re insistent and render her immobile, her face pulled into a tight grimace as she tries to will the stabs away by force of her stubborn will.

  It doesn’t work.

  “Little Miss?”

  Yona freezes, her eyes wide with panic as Zeno lifts the cloth flap of the tent that she shares with Yoon, poking his head inside and locking gazes with her, blinking blankly at her before registering her fetal position and pale face. His normally light expression hardens the tiniest bit before he crawls towards her, extending out a hand to touch her shoulder as her eyes close and a small whimper escapes her as another jabbing twist in her stomach rolls through her. She wishes that she could just disappear.

  Zeno’s touch is compassionate as he lowers his voice, mindful of the other men lurking nearby who have awoken for the day as he softly asks, “Is it your monthly?”

  Kill her now, please. Mortification is a luxury that she cannot afford at the moment, however, the pain rendering her sensitive feelings of propriety unimportant as she merely nods her head frantically, her brow drawn down in acute discomfort as she breathes in through her nose and releases a whooshing exhale past her lips. Her eyes are squeezed shut, causing her to be unable to see Zeno’s small nod of understanding before she hears him depart from her. She assumes that he’s left in order to retrieve Yoon, still unsure as to whether the young boy will even be able to assist her in this matter. She’d probably have better luck with Jae Ha; his sake could at least dull the pain and improve her mood.

  Zeno returns a few minutes later, a small smile upon his lips as he informs her that he comes bearing a gift.

  Yona peeks an eye open in curiosity, eyeing the small pouch that he extends out to her somewhat warily. “What is it?” she moans, accepting the thick cloth with timid fingers and finding a strange heat emanating from it.

  “Something to help,” he states cheerfully, crossing his legs and tilting his head at her questioning gaze with a bright smile. “Put that on your stomach.”

  What has she got to lose? Yona does as he instructs, her eyes widening at the warmth seeping through the material before she begins to melt with relief. She sighs and releases a small moan, tense muscles relaxing and unwinding as the heated compress against her sore abdomen slowly seeps across her tender flesh. Oh- it feels so wonderful. What a lovely gift, indeed!

  Amethyst eyes blink up at the Ouryuu, who merely continues to smile and hum at her words of appreciation. She inquires as to how he knows about such a remedy, and he merely blinks at her for a moment before he speaks. “Well, Zeno _was_ married for a brief time, Miss…”

  Huh? What did that have to do-?

  Oh. Right. She’d almost forgotten about that. He’d mentioned it once a while ago, but he’d never brought it up afterwards, and it had drifted to the back of her mind. A small blush stains her cheeks as his words fully sink in and she makes a mental note to take more of an interest in her dear friend as she drops her gaze, her eyes feeling heavy from the relief that the compress against her abdomen brings, drowsiness pulling at her mind as she murmurs her gratitude to him once more, barely registering his insistence that she rest before she drifts off to sleep.

  Zeno watches her chest rise and fall with peaceful and even breaths, her face lax as she succumbs to slumber at last. His burned hands are healing slowly as he brushes a lock of hair back over her shoulder, his small smile filled with warmth, just like the stones that he’d plucked out of the fire for her. It brings back memories of a happier time with a woman who is no longer upon this earth, and he watches the princess sleep for just a little while longer before he heads out into the bright early morning sunlight.

 

  
  “Where’s Yona?” asks Jae Ha with mild curiosity, seemingly amused at Hak’s immediate head swivel towards the tent that the princess normally occupies with slight concern.

  “Resting,” says Zeno brightly as he accepts the food that Yoon serves him. “Little Miss didn’t sleep well last night, so Zeno told her to go back to bed!”

  Yoon frowns slightly as Ao snags a chestnut from the small pile that he’d accumulated earlier that morning. “She tossed and turned a lot last night…maybe I should go and check on her?”

  Zeno swallows his mouthful of food and chirps, “Zeno already did! The Miss is fine- just tired!” It isn’t a lie, but he knows from experience that women sometimes tend to be sensitive about their monthly situations, preferring to keep it to themselves. He continues to eat and leaves it at that.

  Yoon merely nods as he hands the Seiryuu his food. “It’s just as well. We’ve been walking a lot lately…she was bound to overexert herself sooner or later…”

  Kija hums in agreement before he says, “We should stay put for a few days and allow the princess to regain her strength.”

  Hak rolls a shoulder as he states, “A break probably wouldn’t hurt the rest of us, either.”

  The group agrees and Zeno smiles, watching the rest of his companions slip into the light conversation and playful banter that seems to flow so naturally between them now, the Ouryuu thankful for moments like these with friends like them.


	15. Through the Darkness to the Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Reverse the roles. Shin-ah comforts Yona after a nightmare.  
> T

  Blood is pooling on the floor and she can’t make it stop.

  Panic grows and confusion feeds into it, the crimson streams continuing to trickle down her hands and onto the ground. It drips from the tips of her fingers and adds to the small body of horror that is rapidly accumulating by the hem of her robes. She shakes and trembles, wipes her slick palms upon the pretty fabric to rid herself of the stain, but it doesn’t help. No matter how much she rubs, there is only more upon her skin.

  It won’t stop. It brands her, stains her flesh an incriminating shade that leaves her dumbfounded. It’s turning into a river, twining its way around her feet, wrapping in between her ankles as she fights to breathe and stay calm. She shakes her head and tries to deny its existence but still it persists, flows in a steady trickle down her wrists, seemingly from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

  Hysteria is all consuming as she continues to watch it _drip drip drip_. Whose blood is this and why won’t it stop?

  A sudden jarring motion has her frozen in shock. She blinks, tilting her head down and staring at the tip of the sword suddenly protruding from her abdomen, her curious fingers morbidly reaching out to touch it in her confusion. Before she is able to graze the shining surface it is ripped out of her, the force of the action causing her to double over at its absence. She stares down into the puddle before her, her reflection wide-eyed as she makes eye contact with Soo-Won over her shoulder in its mirrored surface.

  He looks almost bored as he wipes the blade off on the sleeve of his robe and calmly states, “It’s yours.”

 

 

  She jolts and gasps, jerking awake and staring into darkness as she is ripped out of her nightmare and thrown back into reality. She sits upright as her body begins to shake in the aftermath of her terror, her fingers gripping the blanket and twisting the fabric to help calm her tremors. She blinks back tears of hysteria and tries to soothe herself with silent hollow words, affirming that it was only a dream, that she is alright and that she is alive.

  Yoon is still sleeping beside her, face peaceful and blissfully unaware of the panic making his tent-mate gasp greedily for air next to him. Yona fights to pull herself together as she weighs her options. She should probably go outside and collect herself. Perhaps what she truly needs is some fresh air in her stagnant lungs?

  A rustling sound beside her has her turning her head to see the flap of the tent lift to reveal Shin-ah, out on the night watch. His expression is hidden behind his mask as Ao scampers into her lap, the little squirrel’s furry face a welcome respite from the horrible images still flashing in Yona’s mind as her fingers stroke the little animal’s soft fur. It helps.

  She turns to face the dragon warrior as he kneels beside her and startles at the feeling of his fingertips upon her skin, grazing along her cheek as he attempts to wipe away the wetness that is smeared along her flushed flesh. She blinks in surprise and inhales an unsteady breath, her own shaking fingers lifting and brushing against his. She hadn’t even realized that she’d been crying.

  There’s no point in trying to hide the horrors of her nightmare from him, his vision able to see the ugly remainders of her dreams through the darkness with ease. He says nothing as his hand applies gentle pressure to the back of her neck, pulling her forward and urging her to rest her head in the crook of his neck wordlessly. Her nose is pressed against the warm skin over his pulse, her hands planted firmly against his sturdy chest to steady her as her face scrunches in awareness and vision grows blurry once more; Shin-ah is attempting to comfort her in the only way that he’s ever been shown.

  Shadowed recollections of the kind dragon warrior pressing himself against her in the middle of the night a few weeks back come to the forefront of Yona’s mind as heated tears spill over her lashes and slip down her cheeks, her memory recalling how Shin-ah had trembled so fiercely, just as she is now, his hair slick with sweat at his nape, just as hers is now. His fingers find their way through her strands to soothingly stroke the skin at the back of her neck and it proves to be the final straw that breaks the back of her weakened restraint. She is so very tired and weary of hiding her fears from everyone. She’s only human, after all.

  Shin-ah continues to hold Yona close as she sobs quietly against him, her hands fisting in his fur-trimmed robe as she clutches him tightly and soaks the fabric with her tears. The cool night breeze sweeps inside of the tent, rustling the white fur piece attached to his mask while brushing the scent of the nearby meadow into the space, the moonlight chasing away any menacing shadows still lingering in the corners as he murmurs her name softly.

  His tranquil warmth is soothing, steadfast and bright, guiding her through the darkness that sometimes threatens to swallow her whole. He won’t let her stumble and fall.

 


	16. Wretched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Thoughts on how the Dragons and Yoon are handling being prisoners in Xing Kingdom?  
> T

The walls of the cell seem to grow smaller with each passing day. Jae Ha closes his eyes and tries to take in a deep breath to calm himself, but old fears and stagnant memories torment him from behind tired eyelids. The claustrophobia is stifling, pressing in on him from all sides and threatening to break him. He’s had a taste of freedom and he wants nothing more than to savor it once more.

  Not just for himself, but for her, as well. How is she fairing without them? Is Hak alright? Will he be able to hold himself together if he finds himself face to face with the King? If he loses his composure, who will protect their dear little Yona?

  Jae Ha shifts and immediately regrets the action, his wounds aching and throbbing with the movement. He bites back a hiss and swallows his groan, not wishing to alert the others to his pain. What little treatment Yoon is able to provide in this prison merely takes the edge off of his discomfort, but he is grateful for that much, at least. If only the young boy could get rid of the nightmares, as well.

  Whenever Jae Ha does manage to find rest, it’s filled with images of the darkening sky, his legs heavy and immobile, his chest burning and tears of frustration threatening to fall as Yona’s desperate cries of his name echo all around him in the vast and empty space. This isn’t the freedom that he wants. He wants to go to her, to fly to her side and be the strength that she needs, to carry her away from danger and lift her higher towards the heavens where she truly belongs.

  But he can’t move. He is useless. He tries to call out for her but his voice is gone, stolen along with the abilities of his leg, his ears ringing with the sounds of her screams and hopeless cries, his limbs tingling and head pounding in response.

  The prison cell is so very small, but he is much smaller.


	17. Tired Sigh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Kija! Don’t care what or how, but KIJA!!!!
> 
> T

  He used to revere the sacred hand that he’d been bestowed with, but lately he sees it as nothing short of a nuisance that continues to hold him back in certain aspects of life sometimes.

  Kija watches as Zeno and Shin-ah play their little game, the Ouryuu’s hands in front of him, fingertips facing up towards the sky, with the Seiryuu’s hands lightly resting upon them. They are palm to palm and silent, staring at one another as the atmosphere grows more and more tense.

  All at once, Zeno pulls his hands out from beneath Shin-ah’s, slapping blue dragon warrior upon his knuckles playfully with an exclamation of, “Too slow!”

  Shin-ah stares down at his hands, confusion and awe pulling his mouth agape before they go again. Zeno only manages to gain the upper hand twice more before the silent blue dragon warrior becomes victorious, their little game extending as Kija continues to watch from the sidelines. He’s seen the children of his village playing these little tricks upon one another all of the time, always wondering just what it would feel like to be able to join in, for once.

 

  “Ow!”

  Kija stops short at the sound of Yona’s voice crying out, concern carrying his movements as he turns to see her studying her finger in the late afternoon sun, trying to remove a splinter from her pale flesh and having absolutely no luck. He approaches her and bends his head down to take a look, offering his assistance-

  When Yoon suddenly appears with a small and sharp needle, brandishing it at Yona’s small fingertip while stating that unless Kija wanted the princess to lose her hand, he should leave the delicate job to the ‘genius.’

  He frowns but obeys. He would probably cause more harm than good, anyway.

 

  He thumps his fist against the trunk of the tree gently, watching the apples fall to the ground with little to no interest before bending down to retrieve one from the dirt. He turns the delicate fruit over in his grip, eyeing the bruises that he’s caused to the flesh with a small sigh of defeat.

  Jae Ha lands gracefully beside him, stretching his arms over his head and grunting as he inquires as to why his nap up in the tree had been interrupted, and what was with the sour look upon the Hakuryuu’s face?

  Kija ever so lightly tosses the green dragon warrior the red fruit over his shoulder before silently heading back to camp in the twilight, feeling a little more alone than he has in a very long time.

 

  He is pathetic. Kija sits by the fire and stares into the flames as the others ready themselves for rest, his own body weary from the day’s events. He supposes that he should get to bed himself, but can’t seem to find the energy to get his body into motion.

  Zeno makes some small remark about a dragon’s appearance and states that the only time that he resembles one is when he is in battle and his scales appear. He mentions Jae Ha’s foot, inquiring as to how his own verdant scales are present all of the time beneath his boot and laughs as the green haired warrior dodges the statement, attempting to change the flow of the conversation to the best of his ability.

  Kija believes the topic over and discussed, but turns his head as their mistress states that she’s only ever seen scales thanks to Kija’s hand. He stares, completely dumbfounded as he watches her lift his dangerous hand up closer to her face for better inspection. She brushes her fingers across his knuckles fearlessly, remarking about how smooth and different the texture is while stating how surprised she is at the warmth radiating from them as they glow and shimmer by the light of the fire.

 

   
  That night, after everyone else has slumbered off, Kija cradles his hand to his chest and thanks every star in the sky for the ability that has been gifted to him, grateful for the blessing bestowed upon him by the heavens above.

  He can still feel the phantom ghost of her touch as he drifts off to sleep.

 


	18. Make Me a Sinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Jae Ha’s thoughts during the Nadai arc when they get separated from the others?  
> T

  He frowns as he notices Yona’s tremors increasing, wrapping his arms around her just a little more tightly and trying to be mindful of the still fresh injury upon her back as she burrows her face into his chest.

  It’s the best kind of torture. He truly is a selfish person, almost grateful for the state at which they find themselves, for it allows him to indulge in holding her close without interruption. He’ll probably never have this kind of opportunity ever again; he just wishes that it was under better circumstances. He greedily commits the feeling of her small frame perched in his lap to his memory, savors the smell of her hair as she tucks her head beneath his chin and soaks in his body heat, the sensation of her palms pressing against his chest branding him through his clothes.

  Her eyes are closed and she hums as his fingers stroke her hair beneath the overcoat that he’s thrown around her, a shiver wracking her frame as her fever continues to smolder. Jae Ha furrows his brow and closes his own eyes, reminding himself that she is a mere child who carries the weight of an entire nation upon her shoulders without complaint. She is such an incredible person, so filled with determination and strength that it pulls at him, lures him into allowing his poor heart to pretend that in another life, perhaps they would be like this without the lingering curiosity of the influence of the dragon’s blood or prophetic obligations.

  He listens to her breathing slowing and feels her chest rise and fall beneath his palm as he holds her closer still. The others will be along shortly and the moment between the two of them will be nothing more than a fragment of a memory that he will hold dear to him for the remainder of his days.

  Just a few more minutes; then he’ll let her go.


	19. Let the Moment Break You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: rollzerox said: Ok I know I myself am already writing a fanfic about this concept but I'd love to see someone else's take on it so I have a prompt for you: Yona coming to Jae-ha about the kiss she gave to Hak thinking she did something wrong (As she mentions in her thoughts in that chapter that he pulled back) and asking for help/practice XD
> 
>  
> 
> it would be my pleasure! ;)
> 
> T

 

  There is something bothering her to the point of it nagging at him incessantly, his brain obsessing over what could possibly be causing her to behave so strangely and out of sorts. She is not her normal bubbly self, cloaked in a cloud of anxious melancholy that follows her around. She appears to be avoiding Hak and Jae Ha fights the urge to spit out the bitter taste of jealousy coating his tongue. He’s not a child, but he still wants to give into his juvenile urges and stomp off to in order to brood properly in private.

  Not like he could even if he wanted to. Whether it’s the pull of the dragon’s blood or his own toxic affection for her, he finds himself lingering nearby and hovering closer than normal, watching her for signs of distress that will require him to intervene. The calm after the storm has allowed them all time to heal their wounds and regain their strength little by little, but not enough time to solve whatever problem seems to plague her. She is constantly deep in her thoughts, flustered and chewing upon whatever she refuses to let go of.

  He wonders how long it will take her to seek out his advice and finds that he doesn’t have to wait long at all.

 

 

  She comes to him under the guise of re-wrapping his wound, her fingertips brushing against his healing skin and spreading warmth across his flesh unknowingly as she tries to form the words to begin the conversation that he knows is sure to come. Sometimes he hates being the oldest.

  Amethyst eyes are aimed down at her fingers as he pulls his robe back up over his shoulder, her timid voice reaching him at last as she murmurs, “Jae Ha, I think Hak must hate me.”

  He wants to scoff and is proud of himself for refraining from barking out a harsh laugh at the very notion. Silly girl. He never knew that it was possible for two people to both be so blind when it came to such matters, but love tended to have such strange effects on the young and impressionable. He feels a false smile pull at his lips instead as he softens his voice and inquires, “Why would you think such a thing?”

  A flush begins to bloom across her cheeks, painting the pale skin a pretty hue as she stumbles over her words and fumbles with her fingers while rolling up the remaining bandages in her lap. Well, isn’t that a curious thing? She can’t even bring herself to look him in the eye, going so far as to duck her head and turn away as he tries to lock his gaze with hers.

  Oh, that won’t do at all. If there is to be any hope of removing the parasitic problem that has latched itself onto her brain, then she needs to open up to him and allow him to help her. Even if it’s about another love, he hates to see her suffer so.

  Rising to his feet, he holds his hand out to hers and waits patiently for her to acknowledge him. She tilts her head back to question his actions silently and he allows his true feelings to quirk up the corners of his mouth with barely concealed affection. His heart flutters in his chest as her hand lands in his palm. He silences it as they take off into the sky in search of somewhere away from lingering ears and nosy companions.

 

 

  Once they are settled in the field he leans back and rests his weight upon his hands, soaking in the warm rays of golden sunshine as she continues to fidget beside him, her fingers twisting and plucking at the soft petals of a bright yellow wildflower. He observes her out of the corner of his eye, fighting against his desire to scatter the blossoms amongst her crimson locks, weaving them in between her vivid strands and fusing her into the scenery that surrounds them on all sides like the image of loveliness that she is.

  “I did something really stupid.”

  An eyebrow quirks at her sudden statement. Well, this will require more details. The broad subject could cover anything from forgetting where she’d misplaced her bow, to having accidentally gotten a piece of candy knotted hopelessly in her hair. Knowing that it is neither of these things, he turns towards her with a small grunt and sits up, waits for her to summon the rest of her courage and continue. He rests an elbow upon his knee and his chin in his palm lazily.

  “I-“ she swallows and releases a shuddering breath. Tears begin to form in her eyes and Jae Ha’s eyes pulse wide at the sight of her pushing her clenched fists against her lashes in an effort to stem the flow that has already begun. He sits up in alarm and immediately wants to know what has happened. It involves Hak, that much is for sure, and Jae Ha suddenly feels an icy dread settle into his veins as he recalls that they had traveled together while he’d been in that prison cell, possibly been left alone while they’d slept, maybe even given into the desperate temptation of their seemingly hopeless situation while on their way to meet with Soo Won -

  His expression flattens immediately into a deadpanned frown at the very idea. Yeah, right. What was he even thinking? This was Hak that they were talking about, here. The man was so tightly wound and emotionally restrained that it would’ve taken a vat of alcohol to maybe even give him the idea of attempting to express his love to the princess in a physical way. To take advantage of the situation even in the slightest isn’t possible for someone like Hak.

  Whether or not it happened, though, he needs to hear it from her. He may need time to sharpen his blades.

  “Yona, my dear,” his hand lands upon her shoulder, supporting her and trying to get her to calm down. “I can guarantee that there is absolutely nothing that you could have done that would ever cause Hak to hate you.” (Even an unplanned pregnancy, should that be the case). He pulls his hand back and feels a piece of himself break at the sound of her sniffling hiccups, his fingers wrapping around her delicate wrist and lifting the back of her hand up to his mouth in order to press a kiss to her soft skin. He hates it when she cries. Thankfully, it’s a rare sight. His thumb strokes along her pulse as he rests her hand in his lap, waiting for her to collect herself so that she may continue with the purging that she so desperately needs.

  “I-“ she hiccups and he shushes her gently. “I-I-“ she takes a deep breath and declares, “I kissed Hak!”

  Silence. The wind blows the weight of her words across his soul and he hears another splintering crack deep within his chest as her statement settles. That was truly all that had transpired between them? Just an innocent kiss? How adorable. Even a kitten’s claws could harm, though. He forces himself to smile encouragingly at her and simply says, “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  She shakes her head, a few of her tears scattering into the grass around them. Oh? “I sprung it on him so suddenly, and he didn’t say anything! He actually pulled away...Maybe I...did it wrong?”

  He wants to smack some sense into the ex general and shake him around for awhile. Here lies a tremendously perfect feast before him, yet the Thunder Beast insists upon fasting! How dense could one man be? Opportunities are wasted on the wrong people, he swears. It’s not fair.

  Jae Ha’s other hand reaches out to tuck a stray lock of bright red hair behind Yona’s ear, his fingertips trailing along the delicate shell before he tilts her head back towards him. “Yona,” he says softly, taking secret delight in the way that her gaze locks onto his at the tone of his voice. “You did absolutely nothing wrong. I can assure you that Hak was probably just overwhelmed, given the situation and the surroundings,” he tilts his head and brushes a tear away from her cheek as she gives a small nod. “Have you spoken to him since then?”

  She shakes her head, their connection lost when she turns her head back towards the remnants of the mutilated flower in her lap. “No...what am I supposed to even say to him?” Her nose scrunches slightly as she fights another wave of tears, her voice a choked warble as she squeaks, “What if it he thinks it was a mistake? What if I did something wrong? I’ve never-“ she closes her mouth before giving any further information away, but she’s revealed just enough to the green dragon warrior’s eager ears.

  He releases a small laugh and allows himself to smile at her uncomfortable squirming. “How adorable,” he chuckles under his breath, tapping her upon the tip of her nose as she frowns at him petulantly. “To give your first kiss to your childhood companion... I doubt that it would be lacking in any way, my dear.”

  It’s not the answer that she wants to hear, apparently. Her shoulders hunch in ever-so-slightly, folding in on herself with a glaze of dejection clouding over her features. His frown deepens as he ponders how to get himself out of this situation with both of them in tact. The options are few and those that remain don’t look very appealing. Dead man walking, indeed.

  What she needs the most right now is reassurance. Her pride is wounded and her feathers have been ruffled at the very thought of rejection from the man that she’s come to love so fiercely. It stings his already aching heart, his mind knowing what he must do while his soul weighs the pros and cons of the leap that he’s about to make. He is but a man, after all; a stupid, _stupid_ man.

  Shifting towards her, Jae Ha settles his weight upon his knees and leans forward, both hands coming to cup her face. Her eyes widen as he hovers above her, regarding her though lowered lids as he watches her lips part in innocent wonder. Her hands land upon his wrists, as light as the wings of a butterfly as his thumbs stroke along her cheekbones.

  What a despicable being he is; a pirate through and through. Why is he tormenting himself and throwing chaos further into the mix? There is nothing that he can offer to her. Hak can give her the future that she deserves, surrounded by love and cushioned by protection. She will be cherished, live a long life filled with happiness and laughter, so long as Hak remains by her side. They have their entire lives before them, their journey together truly just beginning. It is, by far, the best option for her.

  He is nothing more than a bomb with an undetermined amount of fuse; no one (including himself) knows just when he will detonate, his time upon the earth limited in every sense of the word. Every second is precious and ticks by loudly in the back of his mind, urging him not to waste a moment of what remains of his life, to grasp at the sand as it pours through his fingers, no matter how he fights in vain to cling to every last grain.

  But dare he allow this chance to slip by? No matter which way he turns he is cursed, either doomed to spend the remainder of his days wondering what could have been if he’d only leapt, or haunted by the fact that he took advantage of the one that he holds so dear in a moment of weakness. How selfish is he willing to be in this very moment?

  Her eyelashes flutter delicately against her cheek and the last thread of his control snaps cleanly. It feels so much like flying, his blood roaring in his ears as he touches his lips to hers gently, relishing the way that she gasps as his heart pounds in his chest. He brushes their lips together once more, watching her through a hooded gaze and waiting for a sign to stop the madness that he’s pouring into their relationship as their breaths mingle together. It’s more than he deserves and everything that he’s ever wanted in this lifetime.

  Her pupils dilate, she leans forward ever so slightly, and he feels himself fall.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to follow me on Tumblr or to leave feedback! I always appreciate it!


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